


Remember Me

by HayanSonyeo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, Original Character(s), Parallel Universes, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25821511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HayanSonyeo/pseuds/HayanSonyeo
Summary: First you learn how to love. Then you learn how to forget. After that, you learn about acceptance. And in the end, you learn how to remember...
Relationships: Lu Han/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	Remember Me

**Author's Note:**

> There are worlds which coincide only once (or a few times). When that moment comes, cherish it and make an effort to remember it, so that after the worlds fall apart once again, you have moments of happiness to hold onto.

Walking down a small pathway made of stone - old and ragged, as such pathways sometimes were, Luhan was careful not to step on stray flowers which had overgrown from the grassy field all around him and who stood proudly, defying all newcomers bravely.

The stray flower was white and soft, nothing like the sole flower he was clutching tightly. _No_ , his flower wasn’t soft and forgettable, ordinary and beautiful because of its modesty. This flower was something entirely else - it was unique and strong and easily recognized among thousands of other flower species inside of a giant garden.

The pathway led to the top of a small hill, a lonely tree standing there as an outpost to all the lost souls like his own. The tree’s branches swayed slightly, creating a stage play of light, the gold and blue alternating with a little bit of white among all the green.

The summer would be over soon, Luhan knew. It was just one of these days when it seemed as if it wasn’t the end of September, but the beginning of June instead. The nature would not yet be lulled into a gentle sleep, in which it would remain until spring came to wake it up from its slumber.

The flowers would not close their petals and retreat into the ground. The leaves would not flush in an irreversible process that would carry them away from the tree’s branches, out into the unknown and towards a silent place…

A place that would remain unchanged, only the blanket of snow hiding it from the world for a little while. Hiding it from anyone who might remember, who might want to…

Luhan did not know anything about this place. Yet he was here anyway, and for some reason he felt familiar with everything - as if the flocks of birds making mysterious patterns in the sky and moving towards a brighter tomorrow had been followed by his eyes as they came back half a year ago.

Came back from where? The south? And came back to which place? _Home_?

Luhan reached the tree and leaned his back on the tree’s trunk, careful not to harm the old friend in any way. It wasn’t too hot - instead, the day felt _just right_ like only a few did when it was summer.

Only a few did during all other seasons, too.

Luhan glanced at the flower in his hands, seemingly so out-of-place in this oasis of peace and warmth.

But it was not.

Luhan had seen it for the first time on the cover of a book - or at least, what he’d thought was a book - that someone had forgotten and left behind on a train ride.

He could’ve left it on the table. He could’ve run after the stranger, but he did not remember who it was. He had been a child, eager to get home after having spent some time with his distant relatives, and he had not wanted to get lost before reaching it.

So as the train’s wheels turned and the iron horse brought him closer to home, he had opened the book and begun reading it. He had been a small boy, but he’d always liked reading books, so this would be just another conquest for him.

Luhan took the book out of his pocket as he sank to the ground, his back still anchored by the tree’s trunk. The jacket of the book was old and nearly torn at places from having been read so much.

He opened it for the God-knew-which time since that faithful day on the train. Yet the feeling he’d had when he’d started reading it for the first time persisted - it was excitement combined with fear, uncertainty and just enough belief that the writer was not a liar, making up things that were not true.

He was now quite different than that boy, and he knew the book’s contents by heart, but beginning to read it again still left him feeling as if this time, its contents would not be the same and the end would change.

He took a deep breath, clutching the book tightly in his hands, the flower perfectly fitting in next to the violet jacket with the image of the same flower on it.

He’d picked it up on purpose - it could’ve been pink, red, white… But for some reason, he chose _violet_. Because it was the color the book’s writer had chosen, because it was the color he thought she liked.

_She_ …

Much the same like the first time, Luhan traced his fingers on the handwritten letters in the book. It was not a book, but a diary, yet Luhan still refused to call it that. Because maybe, just maybe, the writer was not the girl whose story she’d told. Maybe that girl didn’t exist at all. Though he hoped she did, with his whole heart.

Luhan sighed, reading what was written on the first page. Why was he still doing this to himself, even after all these years? Why couldn’t he let go of all of this?

It was just a child’s dream, everything. A play of words, a talented hand, a big coincidence. Why Luhan still didn’t believe in it, he did not know.

_I am writing these words even as the tears roll down my cheeks_ , the page read. _Because though you’d said you would return again, a part of me knows you will not._

_And seeing you for the last time like this, without being able even to say a proper goodbye, hurts so much._

_But perhaps that is how everything is supposed to be - it is not fair for some to get everything they want and for others to have nothing. And life is not unfair._

The words resonated deep within Luhan’s soul, though they should’ve lost meaning through time. Though he’d read them so many times that they blended in with his very soul and turned into one of his basic beliefs.

It wasn’t raining today. Yet he could see the scene in his mind nevertheless, the woman being hit into the head while she was washing laundry on the riverside. Though he could imagine her fear while she was being thrown into the river, because she knew she would die.

But she didn’t. Instead, she was saved by a pair of strong arms, though they were as young as her own - merely sixteen at the time. Instead, the duo rushed away on his horse, and though they were being chased, they would not be caught. He reassured her over and over again, and she believed him.

Neither of them knew that the time they would have together would be short. Neither of them knew that, every time they went into the field of violet flowers and chased each other until sunset, it could be the last time.

A month. A month of protection from harm, of laughter and sweet bliss they’d thought would last forever. It was the beginning of August when they’d first met. When he’d saved her from the people wanting to prevent her from helping make the world a better place.

At the end of August, she was alone among the flowers again.

Luhan had read the first chapter so many times that some of the pages were torn out of the book, glued back later just to start falling out after some time again. The story progressed without difficulties, and the prince-rescuing-the-lady concept was so interesting to him that as a child, he’d imagined himself to be the knight who’d arrive just in time to save such people from harm. To save _her_ from the people who’d wanted to kill her.

He did not understand the explanations of falling in love at the time. Nor until much, much later, when he turned sixteen himself and started wishing he had someone to fall in love with, too. And fall in love he did, over and over again. With the story and the woman who’d written it, who’d _lived_ through it.

The second time he arrived, it was the beginning of August again. He was just a coincidental savior again, in time to kill the snake that was about to bite her while she was resting in the field of violet flowers.

She remembered him perfectly well. She knew every line on his face, the unique color of his eyes, the beauty of his smile. She was still mourning the loss of him, not understanding why he’d disappeared so suddenly but trying to justify his reasons for leaving even though he’d probably just gotten bored of her and run away.

But he knew nothing about her. To him, she was just a stranger he’d never met before. A damsel in distress he’d casually saved as if it was nothing. Although it wasn’t the first time he’d saved her.

She fell in love with him again at the age of seventeen, and this time they spent a month looking at the night sky while he told her the names of countless galaxies and their stories.

She tried to memorize them all and failed, but she would never forget the name he’d whispered to her the first time he’d kissed her in their second encounter. In his second life, as she liked to say.

_The sky was not always so full of stars, he had said to me_ , the words Luhan knew by heart. _A long, long time ago, it used to be empty and void of light._

_A beautiful woman, much like you, did not like the darkness. She wished the world was full of light, during the night just like during the day._

_She was so sad and lonely that tears began streaming down her face._

Luhan took a deep breath, wanting to close the book and throw it away. Why was it making him feel like this? Why couldn’t he get used to it, even after all these years? Why did it feel like the first time even though he knew the words by heart and could recite them with his eyes closed?

_Do you see all of the asters in this field?_ The boy said to her, staring into her eyes right before kissing her underneath the stars.

_They are the tears of the woman who did not want to live in a dark world. Just like you, though the darkness you are fighting is inside of people’s hearts, and it is harder to light them up than the sky._

_Even with the sincerity of love._

At the end of August, he disappeared again.

The asters remained. She wondered if more would grow if she cried on the field, or if it would make no difference.

Some people were lucky enough to find their soulmate once. Luhan wasn’t such a person - at seventeen, he was the laughing stock of the school, his head always buried underneath a million books about astronomy. And flowers. _Violet asters in particular._

Luhan stood up, wanting to get out from the safety of the tree’s branches and out into the sun. He was feeling cold and empty, and he did not want for the flower in his hands to feel that emptiness.

He looked around himself: the whole world was a sea of grass and flowers, the field going as far as his eyes could reach and even further away.

It was a field like any other.

His feet had somehow taken him here today, while October was steadily approaching and the summer was going to remain just a distant memory until the next time it settled on this Earth, blessing it with its warmth and sending it into a happy dream so much unlike the one created by winter.

_Memory… Next time…_

At the age of eighteen, she met the person she considered her soulmate again.

Again, she'd been supposed to die. She’d hurried one of the children away and into the woods, and she hoped the child would manage to get away, but she didn’t think for a second that she might, too.

Luhan looked at the sky - its color was like no other, a beautiful shade of blue that brought calmness to everything in the world.

It was the last color the woman thought she would see before she died - now finally, with no stranger there to save her. Without getting to see him again, getting to fall in love with him again. Two times were already more than enough, yet she would’ve done it over and over again, had she been given the chance.

But he proved her wrong for the second time, throwing some kind of food at the mad dog who was going to shred her to pieces for sure. The dog fell asleep, and the knight smiled at her.

He did not know who she was.

She pretended it was likewise.

And he fell in love with her again, just like she did with him. They ate apples that were not yet ripe together and laughed deep into the night, the sound echoing through the endless fields, becoming one with the sounds of the cricketers who were the only residents of the grass that were not asleep.

When the cricketers fell silent and the summer was swiped away into the distance, she remained alone with the asters and the stars. But the memory of him remained.

_Even though we had to do everything all over again every year, I wouldn’t have changed it for anything._

_Because even though he changed through the years, just like I did, we always found ourselves falling in love with each other, again and again and again._

_If that doesn’t mean we are destined for each other, then what does_?

Even though the pathway ended at the top of the hill, Luhan’s feet were steady as they started carrying him through the grass. He had no idea where he was going. He had no idea how he would come back when the tree got too far from sight.

The grass was so tall he could barely move through it. It was golden, not having been cut down by man for centuries, if ever, and left to create a barrier between the cruel world of the reality and the world of hopes and dreams.

Much like it had for the woman from the book, who’d run through the wall of gold and violet, sobbing because he did not come to save her when she was nineteen.

_No_ , not her - the child she’d attempted to save, the child whose only sin was not being as intelligent as other children. Though it was as capable of loving as others, though it was as capable of feeling surprise and happiness and sadness and _fear_ …

At the age of nineteen, she told him how they’d met four years earlier, and then after a year, and then again. How she’d fallen in love with him three times. How he’d saved her every time.

The fourth time did not happen, though. Instead, she’d spent that August alone, desperate and with her heart broken.

_I should’ve known that he wouldn’t believe me,_ the words looked at Luhan from the old, worn-out pages of the book.

_Who would? Half of the time, I questioned myself and thought I was crazy._

_But it was him. And though this time he did not fall in love with me, I still loved him_.

For Luhan, the age of nineteen was full of new things. It was the time when he first fell in love himself, with a girl he met at the university, who’d loved the same things he did and who didn’t pressure him into talking when he felt like going out into the nature to stare at the stars for a long time.

It did not last, though, and he was left alone with his obsession with stars and the aster on the book’s cover. And with the contents of the book, the meaning of which he could still hardly comprehend. It would never be like reading it for the first time, though, he knew, even if he was overwhelmed with some unknown emotion every single time he’d went through the book through the years.

At twenty, her smile was honest but underneath it lay the scar of sadness from the past year. Of having to get through it without the warmth of his eyes to follow her. Of wondering whether they would ever meet again, or if his withdrawal would carry him to some other places and stop whatever miracle it was that had led him to her from ever happening again.

But when she tripped and almost fell from a cliff, the hand that caught her own and brought her up was warm and sincere, and so was the boy who’d run away from her a year ago, calling her a _madwoman_ and throwing away the aster she’d put in his hair while he wasn’t watching.

At twenty, there were the most asters in the field. She did not quite believe in the story of the woman’s tears, but the asters seemed like a visible expression of the past year’s sadness.

That August, he'd said he wanted to climb onto a tree to see how far the asters stretched, because it was an extraordinary scenery, after all.

The moonlight shone on the violet field, giving it an unearthly glow.

_I can see them reflected in your eyes, he had said to me before he kissed me for the first time._

_In his fifth life._

_How long would this last? How many more times would I get to see him, fall in love with him and then grieve for him for an entire year?_

_How many more times would I wait until the end of August, preparing the words I would say for our final goodbye, the words I would never voice?_

The grass suddenly became a sea of violet instead of the gold Luhan was trying to get through frantically, speeding towards a destination he knew nothing about.

Luhan was surrounded by flowers identical to the one he was holding in his hand - powerful and unique and mysterious and patient, _patient_ above everything as it waited for next August, when it'd be able to love and be happy again.

At the age of twenty-one, he did not come.

Or rather, it was her who did not get to see the asters bloom. Who did not get to see the night sky as it overflowed with stars, ensuring that the world was never enveloped in darkness again.

_My heart is waiting for next August… Though I don’t think it will hold on and leave me in life, I will be there when he comes._

_He will not know me._

_He will not remember me._

_He will not get to fall in love with me again._

_But I will remember. I will remind him of all the love we’d shared so that he may come back into his world safely. So that he may love again, even if he will forget about it when August ends._

_He will find me among the aster flowers. He will find my reflection in them, and though his mind will not know it, I know that his heart will._

Luhan could not take much more - no, he couldn’t read a single additional word because he was overflowing, not able to breathe while he ran through the sea of asters, the sea of tears of some unknown woman who didn’t like the dark.

Who’d spent her life trying to protect the underdeveloped children. Who’d lived in a world where they were savagely murdered.

Who’d been wounded while trying to save another one of them.

Who wasn’t even _real_ and who was making tears start streaming down his face as the grass and asters mixed once again and he suddenly found himself outside of the tall vegetation and in a place where the grass was cut and there was nothing but violet.

_No, not him… You._

_You will not remember, Luhan. And it’s okay, my love._

_I’ll remember for both of us._

Luhan made a painful noise, the book falling out of his hands as he fell to his knees.

In front of him was a tombstone.

He remembered the last words in the book as if he’d written them himself. The little boy in the train thought it was such a strange coincidence that the main character in the book had the same name as him.

But coincidences didn’t exist, the twenty-one-year-old him knew. And although his mind did not know where he was, did not know when and _why_ he was, his heart knew. His heart _remembered_ , and it was squeezing painfully inside of his chest.

He did not know what her face looked like. She did not describe whether her eyes were the color of nuts or jades, whether her hair was a fire shining in the sun or the echo of the darkness on the whitest snow.

He imagined her to be a small, plump woman with curls the color of the palest wheat swaying in the autumn wind, ripe and uncut. He imagined her eyes to be the reflection of the sky on the warmest summer day, and her smile to be the brightness of the stars shining during the night.

The tombstone was empty, as if those who’d buried her did not want for anyone to know what a bright person she was.

But the asters were all around her. The asters would always remain there, searching for the person who’d cried after being hurt by the constant disappearances of the man she’d loved.

“How must it have felt…” he said through a constricted throat, the tears not ceasing. “To fall in love, just to lose me afterwards, and then have to do it all over again so many times.”

_Don’t worry about me, Luhan. I hope that where I’m going, there won’t be darkness._

“I wish I remembered,” he whispered, the aster he’d brought to the field finding its way out of his hand and where it belonged, next to the woman who’d kept him inside of her eyes, knowing him better than he’d ever know himself.

And he’d never get to know her.

_No_ …

He’d listen to the wind and hear her laughter in it. He’d smell the asters and feel the scent of her hair. He’d look at the sky and see her reflection. He’d touch the golden grass and know the feel of her curls against her fingers.

He would remember, too. His mind would not, but his heart would know.

And that would be enough.

_I hope you find peace, my dear Luhan._

_I have, every time I looked at you._

“I have, too,” he whispered as he closed his eyes, the tears falling to the ground. “Ever since you left this book for me that day on the train.”

As the train rolled away through the August day and the boy read the book with the aster as its cover for the first time, the tears on the ground in front of the tombstone turned into violet flowers, intertwining for the first and the last time.

Their reflection in the night sky would turn into two bright stars who would watch over her tombstone for the eternity. Until someday their souls met again, at a better place.

_I know the field of asters doesn’t stretch on forever, he said to me underneath the moonlight._

_But I wish they did. The whole world would be filled with light, a light so bright that no one could ever forget it._

_You didn’t, Luhan._

_Thank you…_

_For remembering me._


End file.
